The Train Station Scene
by nickyjay
Summary: A rewrite of the train station scene, because the book didn't do it justice.


The Train Station Scene

Author's note:  Written because the book didn't do it justice, and it bugged me.

Michael came down the escalator steps two at a time, urgently scanning the platform and noting with relief that it was full of milling commuters.  That meant that he hadn't just missed an uptown train, which he had half expected given the way the evening was going.  That'd be all he'd need, to be late for work on top of facing a nine-hour night shift in soaking wet jeans.  The Chief Resident was a notoriously finicky character, and being one of the more promising students wouldn't save Michael from a serious tongue lashing, likely in front of the entire A&E. 

Michael made his way down the platform, dodging through commuters with the ease of long practice.  It wasn't until he was half way along that something caught his eye, a still figure in the flowing tide of human bodies.  He looked up, straight at one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.  Unconsciously, he stopped and stared.

She was standing with her back to one of the pillars in the center of the platform, staring intently back towards the escalators.  Clad from head to toe in black leather, she looked completely out of place amid the drab, rain-soaked commuters.  Flawless pale skin, delicate features, dark hair that hung to just above the shoulder, and wide, dark eyes made for a startling combination.  But despite the way the damp leather clung to her lithe figure, every item – from the well-worn trench coat to the scuff-toed, knee-high boots – had the look of something practical and worn for a purpose.  _She has to be a model, or an actress_, Michael thought.  There was an intensity about her, a focus that dismissed the crowd as though they were so many autumn leaves blowing around her feet.  Michael felt an unaccountable thrill, not unlike a feeling he'd had when he had once glimpsed a cougar lion while out hiking in the back woods with his father.  She had the same animal grace of a hunting cat, although why he'd think of her as hunting he could not say.  Perhaps it was the black leather.  Then, as though she'd felt his gaze, her eyes flickered to the left and fixed on him.

He felt the force of that stare as though she'd reached out and touched him, although they were separated by several meters and the milling crowd.  It was almost a sense of recognition, a gut-deep reaction that had no rational basis. Her eyes widened slightly, startled and wary, and she frowned just a little, as though trying to place where she'd seen him before.  _Oh yeah, like she'd ever be interested in a bottom-feeder like you_, he thought wryly.  _Reality check__, man, she probably thinks you're a stalker and is memorizing your face so she can tell the police what you looked like._ But neither of them broke the stare, and Michael felt his pulse suddenly surge.  _God, she's beautiful.  Enjoy it while you can, buddy, this is probably the last time you're ever going to see her._  

With a deafening rush of light and sound, the train came hurtling out of the tunnel into the station.  Michael turned his head, startled, reminded suddenly of where he was going and what for.  Cursing the timing, he looked back, but the woman had taken the opportunity to retreat.  She had slipping around the side of the pillar so that he could see little more than a shadow among the shadows, ducking her head so that her hair fell forward and hid her face.  The disappointment he felt was utterly out of proportion to what had occurred.  _Oh well_, he thought, _so much for that fantasy_.  He made himself turn away.

Selene frowned, oddly disturbed by the way the young man had stared at her.  He was good looking in a bedraggled kind of way in his soaked clothes, with a slender, athletic build, strong face and determined expression.  He had the look of a man who'd seen some suffering, a look she recognized well.  Selene was not above appreciating a good looking male, but to have him look at her like that, so honest and appreciative, almost trusting…she hadn't felt that kind of reaction to a man – any man, human or otherwise – in over a century.  What on earth was wrong with her?  _Focus_, she told herself irritably, _or you're going to get you and your partners killed_.  But her mind stubbornly refused to let go the memory of the frank approval in his eyes, and the slight confusion as if he too had felt the same odd sense of connection, as though somehow they knew each other.  Which was impossible of course, unsettling her still further.  Unsettled by a human, now that was just plain embarrassing.  

Taking a breath to steady herself, she looked back towards the escalators and the entrance, and any thought of the human was eclipsed by the sight of Raze stalking down the platform towards her.  Trix was a few feet behind and slightly to the right, split up as though they were tracking someone through the crowd and nervous about being seen.  Selene ducked her head and moved away from the edge of the pillar until she was sure that neither werewolf could see her, then glanced cautiously to her right.  Rigel stood at the ready behind the next pillar, casually leaning one shoulder against it as though he didn't have a care in the world.  He lowered his chin, a slight incline of the head that was one of their 'Everything's OK' signals.  Selene slipped her hands inside her jacket, touching the twin Berettas holstered around her hips for a little reassurance.  Adrenaline made her already preternaturally sharp senses buzz, but she was in control.  She had done this too many times to let the sight of her prey unnerve her, even if she knew what it was they would be facing once they'd followed the lycans to their lair.

Slowly, moving without drawing attention to the fact, Selene turned to watch the lycans approach.  Raze was moving quickly, head up, his stare focused down the platform while unobservant commuters bounced off his massive frame like they'd walked into one of the pillars.   It looked as though he was following someone, but before she had a chance to turn and follow his gaze he stopped dead in his tracks.  She saw him raise his head, looking around slowly, heavy brows drawn down in a frown.  _Oh shit_, she thought, and flattened herself against the pillar.  The platform was almost empty now, most of the commuters had got on the train.  Raze's head whipped around and his eyes fastened on Rigel, who had straightened up from leaning against the pillar.  There was nowhere else for him to hide.  Raze's expression twisted in shock, then hatred, and he reached for his belt, at the same time bellowing, 'BLOODS!' in a voice only little short of a roar.  Then he opened fire.


End file.
